


Piña Coladas

by moonchild (vairean)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bokuto Koutarou Being Bokuto Koutarou, Inspired by Escape by Rupert Holmes, Lawyer Kuroo Tetsurou, M/M, Not Beta Read, Police Officer Tsukishima Kei
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:01:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23281399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vairean/pseuds/moonchild
Summary: Kuroo loves Tsukki. He loves him more than he loved those pair of shorts he owned in his first year of high school with small black cats all over them. At least he did before his boyfriend threw them away after moving in together. He knows Tsukki loves/loved him too, not just by his words but his eyes and his smile. He knows he loved him when they sat on the hill under the fireworks, covered in mosquito bites, holding hands and smiling in sync.But sometimes, love takes more than late-night calls, drunk texts and smiling dorks in volleyball shorts. Sometimes it’s the kind of love that can be drunk away by a glass of piña colada.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Piña Coladas

**Author's Note:**

> written with @meru1412

⚘Present⚘

"No Bo, I definitely can't take Kinako-chan in for the weeken—" he paused as Bokuto cut him off at the other end of the phone, attempting to further persuade Kuroo. "Yeah. No. No Bo, no. I just can't. And won't."

"No it really doesn't matter that Tsukki would feed Kinako-chan and that he's good with animals. You know he has those open display racks in his bedroom and you saw he how got when Fuku-chan had knocked over all his figurines. I don't want a repeat of that. I had to redo the whole rack and there are millions of those tiny plastic figures. Yeah— No Bo. He's been busy these past few weeks too so I would be the one taking care of her if she's here. And we both know you don't want to leave you precious Kinako-chan alone with me." 

He faintly heard Akaashi in the background, complaining about Bokuto adopting his second owl in two weeks. Tama-chan, their first owl, was planned between the two of them and Akaashi had agreed to adopting her but Bokuto showed up a few days ago at Kuroo’s doorstep holding a newer cage containing what looked like a small ball of brown fluff inside, which Kuroo deduced was an owl. Tsukishima hadn't been around to see the latest addition to the family.

After spending the next few minutes on the phone with Bokuto, Kuroo sighed and looked back at the discarded course book next to him. It was a Friday evening and yet his boyfriend was no where in sight and none of his friends seemed to be free. Well, apart from Bokuto who was free unless you counted the frantic phone calls to everyone he knows about his owl. He couldn’t really be bothered to read the boring droning of the political situation of Japan decades ago. He was sure he never signed up for History when he decided on Law as his choice of course but now it seems to be hand in hand. He could even make his way through the compulsory English classes but History was the formidable opponent he never managed to master, hence pushed to his third year of university. 

⚘Past⚘

Kuroo never knew why he bothered. He was twenty and in his first year of law school. He should be out at one of his upperclassmen's parties which he was always invited to because of his label among them as the casanova. He had no objection to that name and might have actually referred to himself using the title once or twice, ironically of course, if anyone ever asked. If the choice were left to him, he would be with them as opposed to this sad unsocial-seven-year-old-birthday-party lookalike wedding.  
The wedding itself was a drag, he wasn’t personally acquainted with either the bride or the groom. They were, as made aware by his mother, very close friends of the family and it was just proper for him to attend their wedding. The lady in question here, whom he often referred to as his mother, had betrayed him as his only familiar face and had run away to chat with the other ladies about some obscure lady stuff that ladies in weddings gossip about. Not to mention the champagne tasted vaguely like sewage, the taste of which he knew because of that one drunk night at Bokuto's last year a few days before their high school finals. Aka-chan was drunk just enough to not stop Bokuto from giving Kuroo his dare.

Kuroo supposed the only highlight of the night so far was the tall, blond guy sitting across the room blatantly ignoring the pair of girls attempting to chat him up. He almost felt bad for them since Goldilocks over there didn't seem mildly interested in even polite conversation. He would have truly felt bad for them if he weren't harbouring the small green monster inside him pleased at the fact that Mr Long Legs didn't take an interest in them. If Kuroo had had a couple more drinks, he'd probably make his way to the guy and try to talk to him because anything was better than standing here, so close to the table that should be officially named the Old Lady Gossip Club™ Headquarters.

"Did you hear? Apparently, one of the bride’s ex-boyfriend is attending as well!”

"No way! You think we're going to get some drama before the night ends?"

"No, I think I heard someone mention that he brought someone with him."

“Do you think the bride could be jealous of them?”

Kuroo wondered how many glares he'd get if he hummed "I Write Sins Not Tragedies" here, sneaking a glance at the table which was overly colourful for the age of the ladies sitting around it.

Mr Noodle Limbs (seriously, that guy was tall) seemed to have successfully ditched those girls and was slightly further from his original seat, sipping on a glass of something that, even from this distance, looked far more appetising than the poor excuse of the otherwise brilliant drink Kuroo held. The not-really-subtle whispering from the table finally getting to him, Kuroo began to make his way across the room to Mr Well-Dressed Beanpole, trying to think of conversation starters.

Funny, the guy seemed sort of familiar the closer Kuroo got. In fact, he reminded him of someone he used to know. He didn't bother thinking too much into it, that was just not his style, as he approached the hot blond sitting at the open bar.

"So..." he drawled as he leant on the table, placing himself a seat's distance away from the blond. "Do you come here often?"

He was barely spared a glance from Mr Long Legs. This only pushed him further.

"To be honest, I kind of wanted to nail that other bridesmaid, but you seem to have much lower stan— oh wait, aren't you that frown glasses kid from Karasuno?" he exclaimed as he finally realised why the slicked back blond hair looked familiar. He had previously only seen it messy and damp with sweat on a volleyball court.

"Kuroo-san. Hello." The blond finally spoke, tilting his head slightly towards Kuroo.

“Ah, hey! Tsukki!” Kuroo reeled in realisation, ignoring the blond’s protests against Kuroo calling him that name. It was against his morals to hit on a high schooler. But this middle blocker sure looked fine, and many synonymous adjectives, in that tux. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Kuroo took a step back, forgetting that the chair was directly behind him. The champagne flute in his hand shook and the unwanted liquid in it sloshed around, pouring half of itself on Tsukishima.

“Shit, did I get champagne on your shirt? Sorry, Tsukki!”

“Tuskishima.” The blond corrected him. “Don’t worry, I was leaving anyway. This just speeds up the process.”

“No can do, Tsukki, it was my fault so I must help you clean it and coincidentally get a valid excuse to leave this place.”

“I’m starting to believe you spilled the drink on me on purpose.”

“Ah –“ Kuroo sounded almost sheepish as it did sound like something he would do. The blond across from him stood up and he followed suit, presumably making their way to the washroom.

“And don’t call me that, Kuroo-san.”

Kuroo never thought he’d meet Tsukishima again after graduating high-school. Sure, he still hung out with Kenma and the team in Nekoma from time to time, he particularly loved intimidating the new kittens with his height but it was all ruined when he was around Kenma. Everyone knew that Kenma was his weak spot. But to meet someone from the volleyball circle in a wedding reception, and in Hokkaido of all places, was kinda unexpected.

Not that he minded, Tsukishima was an interesting guy from what Kuroo remembered from that training camp with Karasuno, which happened to be the longest time he spent with most of the team apart from Hinata and Kageyama. Although it looked as if Tsukishima changed a bit too.

“Oi, Tsukki, did you get taller or what? Damn, you can probably give Lev a run for his money now. Ditched the glasses too, I see. “

“They’re contacts and it’s just for today. And Lev would probably not mind the run since that’s all he can do without falling.”

“Damn Tsukki, when did you get so sa—“

“And don’t call me that.”

Kuroo had managed to let himself accompany Tsukishima out the reception hall and to the dark corridor leading to the bathroom. Once the bathroom door closed, muting the slow drawl of some American singer which Kuroo found vaguely familiar, Kuroo saw Tsukishima take off his tux jacket and finally remembered that there were here to clean champagne stains on the white of which the cause of Kuroo himself. So he should be helping. 

Except, he had no clue how. He’d barely lived alone for a few months now and in all of that time he took advantage of the laundromat conveniently around the block from his apartment. He was now on good terms with the tall girl with short brown hair who frequented the counter there when he stopped by. Aida, he faintly recalled her name to be. The sound of the tap running brought him back to the man in front of him. 

“So, um, do we just wash it and hope for the best, or do we bring in the soap?”

“Kuroo-san, it’s fine, you don’t have to bother.”

Tsukishima sounded almost dismissive, but then he was never a rude person upfront.

“So, what were you bribed with to be dragged all the way here?” Kuroo questioned, thinking back to his mother and whether she was even questioning the fact that he wasn’t around anymore. Or if, by any chance, she noticed him walk out with the tall blond.

“The groom is my brother’s friend.” Tsukishima curtly replied, busily soaking the shirt. There was something domestic in the action which coincided with Kuroo’s heart pang, making him question whether he should cut down on his takeouts.

Not dismissive, but definitely not cooperative either. Tsukishima had removed his shirt and was dabbing the stain with a wet napkin with obvious disdain on his face. Without his glasses, he really did look like a different person. He had a nice face, actually. Not that he looked bad with glasses, but he certainly was a looker without too. 

And Kuroo certainly needed to stop this train of thought.

“High school.” Kuroo muttered to himself, trying to get himself back on track.

“Huh? Did you say something, Kuroo-san?” Tsukishima said, looking up at the man in question. Some drops of water had sprinkled themselves on the blond, right on the center of his cheek. Kuroo stuffed his hands in his pockets and that was all he could do to not reach out to Tsukishima and wipe the droplets off his face. Maybe his cheek was as soft as it looked.

“How’s school? And volleyball? Yeah, volleyball. You’re still on the team, yeah?”

“Of course, Ennoshita-senpai is a good captain. And school is as expected. How have you been, Kuroo-san?”

“College is good. It’s fun, more or less, as long as you ignore all the coffee intake and reading. Law, the textbook version, isn’t as exciting as Sherlock Holmes.”

“Well, Sherlock Holmes was a consulting detective which is far different from a lawyer. Law in university is more of the police studies and its applications.” Tsukishima absentmindedly spoke, as if all this was just second-hand information to him.

“Oh.”

The awkwardness in the air was hard to ignore. It wasn’t as if Kuroo knew the guy well, he just knew him slightly better compared to anyone else in the party (he refused to include the traitor he called a mother in this statistic). Not that Kuroo would object to getting to know the tall blond better, he was bored and lonely right now and Tsukishima was hot, to say the least.

“Kuroo-san, the staring is not helping.”

“Huh.” Kuroo had zoned out before he realized but he could hardly blame himself. Those forearms should be illegal on the already jail-bait of a high schooler. “Oh yeah, right, sorry.”

“Right.”

Tsukishima Kei wasn’t stupid, in fact, he was pretty cunning. Shrewd enough to keep up with Kuroo on the court, mostly thanks to Kuroo and Bokuto themselves, and probably could off the court as well. So the look on Tsukishima’s face as he got back to wiping his shirt, was slightly concerning. It wasn’t anything visible but he’d been around Akaashi enough to know the difference between indifference and mischievous.

“Also, Kuroo-san, I’m wounded to hear you think my standards go as low as you.”

“Wha- oh.”

Kuroo held back a physical cringe as he remembered that stupid, boring excuse of a pickup line he tried to use earlier that evening.

Time to salvage what little dignity was left of him here; “Well Tsukki, you didn’t really seem like a hook-up kind of guy, still don’t, so since I had nothing to lose, I figured why not test my luck and— “

“Who said I’m not?”

Praise the Lord that the champagne wasn’t good and Kuroo had discretely ditched it. Were he still sipping on it, Tsukki would have had more than one spot of champagne on his shirt to clean and probably a choking guy with a bad case of bedhead on the floor.

“What do you mean? B-But you’re in high school?!”

“Kuroo-san, look me in the eye and tell me that you never hooked up with anyone when you were with high school.”

Tsukishima had stopped fiddling with his shirt and was now shaking it dry, expression betraying none of his thoughts. His lips, not that Kuroo was looking, were twitching slightly at the corner as if he was trying to hold back a smirk. Definitely not looking at them at all.

“Well, Goddamn, Tsukki, you’ve just managed to add yourself on the sparse list of people who have been able to surprise me.”

“We’re both in agreement that this party isn’t the epitome of one and well,” Tsukishima shrugged, patting the shirt and then paused looking up at Kuroo. “You’re hot.” He said, echoing Kuroo’s exact thought.

The only word to describe Kuroo’s current mental state would be flabbergasted. It wasn’t very often but people did turn out to be different or do things differently from what he expected but being almost the opposite of his expectations? This was a feat only done by one other person, Bokuto. He hadn’t expected the man to go into a profession that required him to spend more time at school but Bokuto did. He was in his first year of the teaching course at a university in the same city. Tsukishima was now definitely, and clearly, flirting with Kuroo, he didn’t mind being called Tsukki anymore either. Kuroo had to take this chance, he would be an idiot to not.

The song in the reception hall was still another Maroon 5 hit, Kuroo recalled the name to be like it had been for the last 15 minutes (did they google Maroon 5 playlist and call it a day or what).

Tsukishima had slipped on the still damp shirt, buttoning it halfway and leaving the jacket and tie off. Honestly, Kuroo was well aware of the repercussions of water and white shirts, but seeing Tsukishima in one reminded him of all the reasons such a combination should very well be illegal on hot people. Especially for hot, tall, blond, young, and cunning middle blockers. The middle blocker clearly wasn’t as lanky as last year anymore and it showed, much to Kuroo’s horror (and joy).

As Kuroo came back to his senses, he realized that Tsukki was halfway out the washroom, taking his silence as a negative reply. Which was definitely not what Kuroo meant. It took him about 0.5 seconds to reach the blond, about 0.3 seconds to pull him by his shirt, about 0.2 seconds to push him against the wall and absolutely 0 seconds to give a shit about what happened to Tsukishima’s jacket and tie. 

At 188cm, Kuroo prided himself to be fairly tall among the people he knew, save the monster Lev, and he didn’t take too kindly to people he needs to physically look up to. So holding the tall blond at his eye level gave him a feeling of accomplishment. It had barely been a year since he last saw him but Tsukishima was definitely at pushing Levs height.

Fucking hell, no one should have lips that pink, was all Kuroo could think at first, he would do anything to taste them. But staring into the heavy-lidded golden eyes, he couldn’t help wanting to wait a little longer. He tilted his head slightly and bent forward, latching his lips just under Tsukishima’s jaw. He felt himself grin when he heard Tsukishima suck in a sharp breath. Kuroo meticulously moved sideways, along the jawline to the ears. He loosened his hands from Tsukishima’s collar and dropped one down, yanking the blonds half-tucked shirt from his pants while the other moved across the latter’s other cheek, firmly placing itself just above the nape of his neck. Just as Kuroo nibbled lightly on Tsukishimas ears, he felt his shirt’s buttons open. Even Tsukishima’s cold fingers left a hot trail around his midriff and fuck, he could feel himself growing hotter by the minute.

Not wanting to get behind in the game, Kuroo pulled back and unbuckled the blonds belt, slowly moving one hand around the soft cloth there. He licked his lips and pulled Tsukishima in with the other hand, locking their lips together to take in any sound he made. He felt the blond hum and his hands found the hardness that had been growing over the past few minutes. Tsukishima arched his back, pressing into the other male, testing whether he was just as hard as him and found his suspicion to be true. Kuroo groaned at the increased pressure and pressed his lips harder into Tsukishima’s with an urgency which the latter reciprocated.

As the taller boy broke away for air, he heard Kuroo softly whisper, breathing just as heavily, “Fuck, Tsukki, you should be illegal.”

If Kuroo had known earlier that he’d be spending a good part of the evening locked up in the bathroom making out with a devastatingly skilled Tsukishima Kei; he’d have opted for something more pleasant tasting than the champagne. But he hadn’t. And to be honest, he had no regrets.

⚘ ⚘ ⚘

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, what am I doing, please send help. This bit had been written over a year ago with my friend. I don't have anything else written, only outlines. Please send me motivation.  
> Find me on tumblr @sunset-drives


End file.
